Wednesday Unravelling
by Sue Pokorny
Summary: Requested continuance of my fic Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday, so probably helpful to have read that first. Set after episode 4.14, S&V. After everything that was said and done, how do they boys move on?


_I've gotten quite a few requests for a continuance of my soon-to-be AU fic, Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday. Of course, once I started thinking about it, all these thoughts started filtering through my head. Can't get a damn thing done until I write it. So here goes…._

**Wednesday Unraveling**

Dean rested his head against the cold iron wall, his hands limp between his upturned knees. He closed his eyes, wishing like hell there was someway to stop the incessant pounding in his head as well as the relentless anguish in his heart. He sighed quietly, turning his head against the metal behind him, his sight falling on the still form lying on the cot across the room.

Sam had been furious at first, angry that his own brother had tricked him and drugged him, defiant and livid that he had been dragged away like some fugitive, locked down inside Bobby's panic room with only the impassive silence of his captors for company.

He'd gone quickly from belligerence to bargaining, trying anything to gain Dean's trust. As much as he'd have liked to believe his brother, Dean knew that Ruby's hold over him was strong. Even after sending the black-eyed bitch back to hell, Dean knew they'd have a long wait until Sam could be trusted again. It had been four long days watching Sam go through what could only be explained as withdrawal symptoms. The shakes, the sweating, the nervous fidgeting as well as the mood swings had taken their toll on the younger man as well as the two older ones who stood by him.

The fever and night sweats had ended late last evening and Sam was now resting peacefully on the cot inside the panic room. Whether that meant the worst was over, Dean had no idea. He'd never heard of anyone becoming addicted to whatever properties were in the demon blood that had fed Sam's psychic powers, but he could only hope his brother would be able to think a little more clearly, at least enough to stop his current rationalization of what he'd been doing.

Dean watched, his breath still in his throat as Sam began to stir, his eyes blinking open and, after a moment, searching the small room for the only other occupant.

"Hey," Dean cleared his throat, keeping his voice soft and non threatening. "How ya feeling?"

"Like an extra in a chain gang movie." Sam slowly sat up, the arm shackled to the iron bedframe pulling against the short chain. He leaned back against the wall and returned his brother's stare. "You can't keep me here forever, you know."

Dean sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor, his shoulder's sagging as he released his pent up breath. "Yeah. I know."

Sam rubbed his face, wincing at the slick of sweat he felt against his skin. "I know you're trying to help, Dean. I get it. You're my big brother. You've looked out for me my whole life." He ducked his head, trying to catch his brother's eyes, but Dean kept his gaze steadfastly on the floor before him. "You can't change destiny, Dean. Nobody can. You can't change what was meant to be. You can't save me from myself."

"I can try." The words were spoken softly, but the raw emotion they contained filled the room.

"Why?"

Dean finally raised his head, his brows furrowed in question. "Why?"

"Yeah," Sam shrugged a shoulder, his own eyes wide with the desire to understand. "Why does it mean so much to you? I know you think you're supposed to protect me, man, but why can't you just trust me to do what I need to do? Why can't you believe in me enough to let me do that?"

"I can't."

Sam waited, huffing a snort laugh when no other explanation followed. "That's it? You can't?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "I… what you're doing, Sam? I know you have good intentions. I know you think this is the best way to fight this war. But if you keep this up, if you keep traveling down this path, you'll end up destroying yourself."

Sam scooted to the edge of the cot, leaning forward to lend more force to his words. "But I know I can win, Dean. I can save people… I can save you."

"It's not worth it, Sammy."

Sam's eyes hardened at the statement, his nostrils flaring as he fought back the anger he felt at his brother's stubbornness. "What's not worth it, Dean? My life for the world? Or my life for yours?"

Dean leaned back against the wall, his entire body telegraphing his exhaustion. "Neither. I've been to Hell. I know what it's like. I can't… he closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the memories. "I could never let that happen to you, Sammy."

"But it was okay for me to let it happen to you."

"That was different."

Sam threw a hand up in irritation, his voice rising in pitch as he allowed his frustration to show. "Why? Because it was you? Because your life is worth so much less? That's crap, Dean."

The older man didn't even flinch at the outburst. "No," he answered over the sound of Sam's ragged breathing. "Because even though you may have had some idea of what it could be like in the pit, Sammy, you have no clue… you can't imagine…" his voice broke and he paused, fighting for control as the horrors of what he'd endured replayed in his mind. "You can't even come close." He managed to finish, aware of his brother's attention and finding strength in the connection. "But I do. I know exactly what you're walking into. And I can't let you do it, Sammy. I just can't."

Sam watched as his brother fought to regain control of himself, clamping down on the fear that had hovered just under the surface since he'd returned from Hell. He'd allowed his judgement of Dean to be clouded, voicing his thoughts thanks to the siren they'd fought, knowing full well that his words, his accusation of weakness had cut his brother deeper than any knife ever could. He watched now as his older brother pulled himself together, fighting back a terror that no human should ever have to know.

How he could ever believe that Dean was weak, he'd never know. His brother was the strongest person he knew. Which was why it was so damn hard to get him to understand what had to be done. But he was, over everything else, a big brother. It was as much a part of him as the demon blood was a part of Sam. There was nothing that was ever going to change that, and Sam suddenly realized that he didn't really want to try.

"Okay."

Dean's eyes cut to his brother. "Okay?" he asked, his disbelief at Sam's capitulation obvious in his tone.

Sam simply shrugged, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know nothing I say is going to change your mind. But you're still going to have to let me go at some point, Dean. And you won't be able to stop me from finding Ruby and doing what needs to be done."

Dean shifted against the wall, his eyes finding the worn spot on the floor again. "You're not gonna find Ruby."

"Of course I can, I…" Sam's head shot up as the finality of his brother's tone caught his attention. He stared hard at the older man. "Dean, what did you do?" He stood, stepping as far as the metal tether would allow. "Dean? No, Tell me you didn't…"

"Kill her? No, Sam. I didn't kill her."

Lowering himself to a crouch a few yards short of his brother's position, Sam carefully watched the older man's face. "Then what?" he asked hesitantly. His breath caught in his chest as Dean raised green eyes to meet his own, a hardness that sent a chill up his spine shining from their depths.

"I sent her back where she belongs."

Sam rocked back on his heels, catching himself with his hand before he landing on his butt. "What? Damnit Dean!" He stood, turning and pulling hard against the chain as his temper flared.

"She was using you, Sam!" Dean explained, his voice low, holding no apology. "It was all some suck-ass plan to get you to go darkside. She admitted it to my face. She was working with Lillith – or maybe it was that yellow eyed bastard all along – but she was part of the master plan."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Sam turned, the chain pulling hard against the heavy iron frame. "Ruby was helping me, Dean!"

Dean finally pushed himself up, stepping forward to stand toe to toe with his brother. "Yeah, Sam. She was helping you right down the path to Hell!"

"You don't think I know that?" Sam yelled, both hands held out in frustration.

"And you still went along with it?" Dean couldn't stop his own pitch from rising to match his brother's. "What the hell, Sam? What were you thinking? She was drugging you. Using the demon blood like some kind of supernatural crack. It was making you stronger, man, but it was also keeping you from seeing what she was really doing! The stronger you got, the tighter her control over you!"

"I was handling it."

This time it was Dean's turn to raise his arms in frustration. "Handling it? Sam, you were lying to me, going behind my back. You weren't handling it – you were addicted!"

Sam shook his head, his nose flaring as he fought to control his breathing. "No, Dean, you… I can't explain this to you. I can't make you understand. This isn't just about me anymore. There's a bigger picture! You of all people should know that!"

Dean backed off, his head shaking in sad acceptance. "I do, Sammy, but…"

"But what?"

Dean shrugged, a heartbreaking look of resolution shining from his eyes. "I can't let you go to Hell. I just… I can't."

Sam sighed, knowing his brother would never give in. "Dean…"

"I'm sorry," Dean's voice dropped to a whisper, the soft admission saying more than any of the previous shouting. "I know you were trying to do what you thought was right. I never doubted that about you, Sammy. Never." He shrugged, his mouth tightening into a grim line. "But I can't let you sacrifice yourself."

"Like you did?" Sam accused, not yet willing to concede the point. "Like Dad did?"

Dean gave him a sad smile, his eyes widening slightly in honesty. "You're supposed to be the smart one."

Sam found himself returning the grin. "But you still don't trust me to know what needs to be done?"

Another grin was accompanied by a one-shouldered shrug. "You're still a Winchester. We happen to have self-sacrifice down to an art form."

"But you and Dad –"

"Were expendable," Dean finished for him. "You're not."

Sam lowered his head, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose before responding. "Dean," he said carefully. "I know you believe that, and I love you for it. But you're wrong. In the whole scheme of things, one life – my life – it just isn't that important."

"It is to me."

Sam sighed. "I know."

They were at the stalemate. Both knew it, but neither knew how to get past it. Slowly Sam turned and stepped back to the cot, lowering himself back onto it as Dean took a seat in the folding chair nearer the door. They simply sat in silence, neither knowing what to say to make the other understand, both knowing the understanding was already established.

Finally Sam broke the stillness that had fallen over the room. "Why didn't you kill her?" he asked. "Ruby. You had the knife. Why didn't you use it?"

Dean tilted his head as if he was wondering the same thing. "Would've been a kind of poetic justice, huh? Ganking her with her own demon-killing ginsu?"

Sam chuckled softly at his brother's way with words. "So why didn't you? You know she can find her way back." He shook his head, his brows scrunched in confusion. "Why exorcise her instead of just getting rid of her for good?"

Dean sighed, his eyes finding something incredibly interesting on his jeans. "I guess, in her own skanky, twisted, evil, demon bitch way, she actually did help you." He folded his arms across his chest and gave a small shrug before lifting his eyes to meet his brother's. "I don't know if it was all part of the X-File's conspiracy or just something she threw in on the fly, but she got you to straighten out after I… after I was gone. I owed her for that."

Sam smiled at his brother's deeply embedded, albeit warped, sense of honor. "Dean Winchester: a man in touch with his sensitive side."

"Let's not get carried away."

Sam chuckled as something that had been missing for a while carefully shifted into place. Despite everything, Dean was still the same person he'd always been. Even his hatred for all things demonic couldn't overshadow his own desire to show mercy when warranted. Maybe he'd been short changing his brother these last few months. Maybe there was a way to work through all this without losing anything more than they already had.

"So," Sam said hesitantly, not knowing how to proceed. "What now?"

Dean shrugged tiredly, allowing his exhaustion to show on his face. "I don't know, Sammy." He said with a sad shake of his head. "All I know is we have to be on the same side of this thing. If we're not…" he gave his brother a grim smile, letting his mask fall, allowing Sam to see the emotions churning within him for the first time.

"We lose," Sam finished for him. He nodded once, feeling another piece of himself shift back into place. "Yeah."

"These powers," Dean sat forward, leaning his forearms on his thighs, giving Sam a look of open candor. "You can't use 'em, Sam. Not without slipping farther down that slope."

"We're in a war, Dean. We have to make use of every advantage we can."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Maybe. But let's not resort to drastic measures until we've exhausted all others. If it comes to that, I promise I'll climb on board. But for now, Sammy, you gotta promise me that we do this our way. The way Dad taught us. No more demons or angels. No more secrets. No more lies." He swallowed hard, his eyes holding his brother's, his hope making his heart beat hard against his ribs. "Deal?"

Sam stared back for a moment before nodding slightly. "Yeah. I can live with that."

Dean let out a breath, feeling the tight band loosening around his chest. "That's the idea, Sammy."

Sam nodded, returning his brother's grin. He held up a hand, nodding his chin toward the iron shackle that tethered him to the bed. "So, does that mean you're gonna unlock this thing?"

"You jonesing for a brimstone flavored V8?"

Sam laughed out loud, and shook his head, the act removing some of the burden that had been weighing on his shoulders. "Not at the moment."

Dean nodded and stood, for the first time in almost a week closing the distance between them. "That's a good start."

The End.

_I guess I just can't believe Sam would ever really harm his brother. Just like I can't believe Dean would ever turn his back on Sam. So, this is how I'm going to believe it will turn out until Kripke proves otherwise. Thanks for reading! I hope it worked for you, too!_


End file.
